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Sketch of Cicada. Aug. 28, 2000. Pencil on Paper. 4"x 4".

Multi-Discipline Work in Progress - Sketch, Painting and Carving
Updated Nov. 24, 2000

Background

On Aug 24, 2000, at about 5:00pm, I was watering a part of my neighbour's lawn
when I noticed a large bug crawling in my direction through the grass. On closer
examination, I found it to be a cicada, fully grown, and with wings. My children,
and a couple of their friends, were playing nearby, so I called them over. My
partner Kati came by to see what the excitement was. My elderly neighbour, noticing
the commotion on her lawn came out, and a neighbour from two doors away also
happened by. We all watched the cicada struggle along through the grass. It appeared
weak, perhaps dying. It seemed to be heading for the spot I was watering, and we
all thought it might have sensed the water, and needed a drink. To our surprise,
it crawled right along the edge of a large puddle without stopping, and continued
to move in my direction. When it was close enough, I put the end of my watering
wand in front of it, and without hesitation, it climbed on. I lifted it up so
everyone could have a good look, and once they were satisfied, I proceeded to
lift the wand up to a tree branch over our front lawn. The cicada crawled onto
the branch, lost its footing, tumbled to the ground and ended up on its back.
I tried to right it with a maple key, but when I touched it, it gave off short, terse
buzzes. It eventually righted itself, and I got it to crawl back on the wand,
then successfully onto a branch. Later that evening, my daughter and Kati heard
a cicada buzzing in our tree.

If that was the end of the story, you certainly would not be reading about it here.
The thing that really caught my attention, and the reason that this is here to be read,
is that two nights later, Kati found a dead cicada lying at the foot of our front
door; and because my immediate reaction was to think that the cicada which I had
helped had come back to thank me before dying.

Though it is quite common for people to believe fully in unprovable things, they
generally will not do so openly without the backing of large numbers of like
-minded believers, trusted authorities and institutions, or documents, systems,
theologies, theories or epistemologies, which validate their beliefs. Everyone
seems to come by the ability to believe in the unprovable quite naturally,
and the general exercising of this ability is often referred to as "having faith".
However, when a belief in the unprovable is predicated on ideas generated outside
of the individual, I suggest that the term "having faith" might not apply. This might
more properly be termed "being faithful", and I see this as something completely
different. Whereas choosing to have faith in something can be the ultimate
expression of individual freedom, being faithful to something isn't necessarily.
In fact, being faithful is often an induced behavior brought on by the subtle
and cunning forces of oppression, and the so-called faithful themselves may be
totally unaware that their faithfulness is being manipulated. Many who honestly
believe they have faith in something, and live their lives accordingly, are really
only being faithful to that thing, and in so being, are giving up some degree
of their freedom, and perhaps worse still, might even be doing the bidding of evil.

When I state that I believe the cicada was indeed returning to thank me,
I am exercising my freedom to believe in the unprovable in the way I choose to.
Although I will not have a large number of like minded believers in this, or any
recognized documents, systems, theologies etc. to support my statement, or any
leader with authority, or institution to speak for me, I will not stop believing
as I choose, for this is true freedom, and I exercise my right to experience it
joyously. Believing in the motive of the cicada brings a smile to my face. It
makes me feel more connected to this world I live in. It adds to my awe of this
Great Mystery which I find myself a part of. It does me a lot of good, and it does
no one any harm. The cicada came to thank me for helping it before it died.
I would be doing myself, the cicada, and all of creation a disservice to believe
any differently.

What I choose to believe should have no bearing on what you choose to believe,
and vice versa. I would hope, however, that the way I choose to believe - the
freedom, insight, individuality, unabashed foolishness, childishness, naivety,
or whatever I else you see me as demonstrating here - will have some effect on you
- that it will get you thinking or questioning or laughing or angry or shaking your
head in dismay. Then, what I really hope is that you will give some consideration
to the things you have faith in and why. Only when we start to question our beliefs
will we be able to clearly see, then put an end to, the oppressive forces which
underlie many of the institutions we so dearly trust, and are so thoroughly controlled
by. Now, let me step down from the lectern/pulpit/soapbox I've been speaking from,
put my lab coat and protective glasses on, and get scientific.

The cicada which died at my front door is a Dog-day Cicada. These cicadas
(as do all types) begin life as eggs deposited in tree twigs slit open by
their mothers. Upon hatching, the larvae fall to the ground where they bury
themselves and feed on roots. Here they grow into nymphs, and once ready,
they come out of the ground, climb trees, split open, and from them emerge fully
developed cicadas. They mate in the tree and die. The cicada I saw on the ground
had most likely fallen out of a tree and was trying to get back. I may have appeared
to be the closest thing it saw to a tree, and so it may have been coming over to
climb up on me. Regardless, it was important to this cicada to return to a tree,
and I certainly was instrumental in making this happen. One other fascinating
cicada fact is that the nymphs of this particular type spend from four to seven years
living under the ground before surfacing. Off with the lab coat, and on with
the smock!

Foreground

A part of me is emerging from years of darkness too, and I feel a strong kinship
with the cicada in this. The fully developed cicada, although its life is brief, finally
knows the light and warmth. It probably enjoys it surroundings and its freedom more
than any other life form. I want this type of awareness for myself, and can probably
have it if I remember where I've been, then where I am today. Having images of
a cicada around might assist me in holding onto these thoughts, so I have decided
that I would like to do a painting of a cicada which will hang in my house, and also
carve a linear cicada into the front door above where the cicada was found as a
tribute to, and reminder of my experience with, this particular cicada.

This cicada is not holy. It is not a relic. It is not to be an object of worship
or ritual. It is, in fact, no more special than any other part of creation. It has
made a connection with my life, and I want to remember it. That's all.

Middle ground

I will post photographs of the completed painting and carving as they become
available. In the mean time, I hope you enjoy the sketch I made which is posted
above. Also, if it is not too late in the year, go outside and listen to the sound
of cicadas enjoying their freedom.

Oct. 22, 2000. I have been busy with other projects, so nothing more
has happened with this work. However, just yesterday, I had a roll of film
developed which had a picture of a cicada on it that I took back in September.
While this is not the cicada responsible for this piece, it is the same type.

A cicada enjoying a late summer afternoon.

 

Nov. 24, 2000. I continue to be busy with other things, but I noticed
this drawing the other day, and realized it has a close connection in spirit
to the cicada project.

Drawing. 1999. Oil Pastel on Paper. 11"x 18".

I made this simplistic, narrative work to remind my young children of a talk
we had had about confidence, independence, and self-determination. It hangs in
our bathroom, but like many other everyday objects, it must have become invisible.
I am surprised it took me so long to notice the connection.

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